LETTING ME GO

Even from death, you're still here. This story is raw, it's real, and how it ends even the cynics can't deny what is clear.

You Cried, I Held You…

In 2012, I wanted to go to this 3-day conscious sexuality camping festival in Melbourne. Sex Camp, they used to call it. And I wanted to go alone. I'd been in relationships my whole adult life. I just wanted to do something by myself for once. But you wanted to come. And honestly, it pissed me off. Then you hit me with your typical smart-arse logic: "Good luck packing all your camping gear on a flight." Fine. You fuckhead. So I laid down the rules: "We're doing our own thing. And by the way, this is an alcohol-free and meat-free event" You looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Like fuck it is." Next thing I know, you're packing an esky full of beer and beef jerky. And off we went.

We agreed to meet in between sessions.

I was waiting in the tent with this giggly story about the workshop I'd just been to which was totally fucking weird, when I heard the zip. My giggles stopped dead. My now 26 year old goatee bearded tradie was standing there. Red-eyed and sobbing. My heart sank. You knelt down. Looked me right in the eyes. "I'm scared of love. I don't know why." I had words. I'd never seen you like this. Vulnerable. Open. Teary. Somewhat Terrified. You fell into my arms. I held you. "We need to do a Tantra retreat." I'd never even heard of Tantra. But I trusted you. So I said, "Yes, of course".

Love Her or Let Her Go…

A few weeks later, we were at our first 'Tantra Is Love' weekend workshop. During a group share in front of about 50 random strangers, you stood up and said something I'll never forget. "Hi, I'm Brodie. I think I'm scared of love. I never commit to relationships. I don't know why. And I never say I love you. I don't even know if I'm capable of the kind of love you all talk about."

The facilitator looked at you, curious. "Who's sitting next to you then? How long have you known her? Are you telling me you don't love this woman?"

You gave this nervous little laugh as you were confronted. "We've known each other for a few years, but no, we're just friends. We're not in a relationship."

The facilitator's tone shifted. Curious became direct. He called you out. Man to man. "If you're trying to tell yourself that you're not in a relationship and that you don't love her, you're either fucking kidding yourself or you're fucking ripping her off. So which one is it?"

The room and everyone in it went silent.

"Because if you love her, for fuck's sake show up and show her, as a man. She's a woman and she deserves to be loved fully. If you don't love her, for fuck's sake step aside and stop wasting her time. Let her go. Let a man who can love her properly get the chance to do so."

That weekend changed everything.

I Cried, You Held Me….

We'd always kept intimacy light. Fun. Joking around. Never too serious. But what happened that night after that weekend I can't fully describe it in words. This was different. This wasn't playful or cheeky. This was slow. Intense. Deep. Connected. That wall we'd both built to protect ourselves? Completely vanished. My body and my heart started to truly soften. I could feel emotions rising in me.

What the fuck was happening?

With each slow movement of you inside me, I could feel my eyes going glassy, my breath catching. I said softly, "I'm feeling emotional. I'm going to cry." I thought you'd stop. But you stayed right there with me. You replied "Then cry." Those two words and the fact that you didn't stop, smashed my heart wide open. The tears came. You pulled me closer. I wept. You made it safe. I felt held. I felt seen. I felt loved. Holy fuck. That thing they'd talked about all weekend, that feminine sexual expression that seemed mystical and impossible, I was living it. This wasn't just sex. This was healing. You were rebuilding my heart. The one that had been shattered by betrayal. You were showing me that men could be safe. That love could be real. You were so intentional. So present. This was beautiful. This was profound. This was mind blowing. From that day forward, we never questioned our love again. It became the one thing we both knew without doubt. Sacred. Obvious. Rock Solid.

The Ultimate Sign of Love...

Spreading your ashes was going to hurt. I knew that. It felt final. The morning was a mess. I couldn't eat. One moment I was yelling at you for being a fuckhead and the life you lived. Next, I'd be laughing at some stupid memory. Then the realisation that I mourn your life more than your death. Then the grief would slam into me so hard I couldn't breathe.

I knew where we were taking you. The same spot in Oakbank where you said goodbye to your grandfather (Opa), your favourite person in the whole world. I sat in the car with your ashes on my lap, next to your dad. The weight of you there felt like hugging you one last time. Devastating and beautiful all at once. When I saw that fallen tree, I knew.

This was it. I was letting you go.

My heart shattered. My body felt like it was breaking. I felt pulled to walk away from everyone. I needed to be alone with this. I needed to feel every excruciating wave of emotion. I felt you there. Your presence. Your gratitude for knowing what you would want. It felt right. But, I didn't want to let you go. I wanted you to stay. I was struggling and hurting. I couldn't just walk away without knowing you were okay.

I took a few quick photos. I wasn't even thinking. Just wanted to capture the place without people in the shot. That night, I looked at them. And there it was. That beam of light. You. The sign I needed. I know how this sounds. But even the sceptics, hell, even the cynics can't explain this away. It's there. Clear as fucking day. Undeniable. You are protecting and loving me. One more time.

I know this is you telling me: I'm okay. You'll be okay. What we had was special and unique. This is you loving me the only way you can now. For 14 years, we had nothing but love for each other. In a tent when you cried. At a retreat when you were called out. That night in Prahran when I cried and you didn't pull away. Every single day after. And now? Even in death, you're still loving me. You're still looking out for me. You never cease to amaze me. Our love and what we shared runs deep, and I'll carry us in my heart for the rest of my life.

Thank you for loving me, Brodie. I love you. Always will.